Home' Trinidad and Tobago Guardian : March 5th 2015 Contents B4
Guardian www.guardian.co.tt Thursday, March 5, 2015
Applications will be accepted from ten (10) working days prior to the auction date. The
deadline for submission of tenders to the Domestic Market Operations Department of the
Central Bank is 12:00 noon on the auction date.
Central Bank of Trinidad
and Tobago and must accompany each tender. Cheque payments must be submitted no later
than three (3) working days prior to the auction date. Cashiers are open 8:00 a.m. to 12
noon Monday to Thursday and 8:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. on Friday.
Competitive tenders can be submitted for any amount up to the issue size and must state the
price the bidder is willing to pay for each $1,000 of the face value being applied for. Competitive
bids may be rejected if the face value of the entire issue is allocated at higher bid prices or if
made to a bid that is rejected.
bidder agrees to accept the weighted average price of the successful bids determined in the
For competitive tenders, payments must be in the amount of the total cost of the bills; for
non-competitive tenders, payments will be equivalent to the face value being applied for.
The Central Bank of Trinidad and Tobago invites tenders
from the public for the following issues:
TREASURY BILL AUCTION
Results of Tender for Treasury Bill number 1449:
www.central-bank.org.tt/content/treasury-bills or call
A fine drizzle sweeps the flanks of Northern
Range foothills; Mount Tamana hides in a grey
squall while morning birds breakfast on a blighted
starch mango tree, strangled by vines but still
bearing fruit only accessible by wing.
This is the time of year which used to be the dry
season but then nothing now is as it was, excepting
the perennial bacchanal. Bees and frogs are disap-
pearing across the face of the earth, along with
schoolgirls in Nigeria and Christians in northern
To reiterate my theme of last week---"the time
is out of joint" but unlike Prince Hamlet I m under
no delusion about the possibilities of setting it right.
The combination of global warming and rabid fun-
damentalism---man made products of progress and
regression---accounts for where we are now.
We ve seen the swing between massive flooding,
drought and forest fires; we re becoming inured to
beheadings and suicide bombings, the hate-fuelled
destruction of human dignity and heritage, the
marauding of those mighty on proscribed right or
greed. If the West isn t trembling, it s dissembling,
while the wheel keeps turning and as fast as we
feel we going forward, we re only reversing at
These reflections from the hills are not aimed at
inducing despair, but rather, to clear the air. Do we
only see what we want rather than what is there?
This morning I watched as the children in my
small daughter s pre-school solemnly recited the
national pledge. It was a chilling moment to realise
that these innocents were repeating the hollow
words of a pledge now hopelessly sullied, a little
more than 50 years after Independence. From par-
liament to parlour, who can honestly say they have
dedicated their life to either God or country? As
for cleanliness in thought, word and deed- wha de
france. As for striving for the greater happiness of
all, come out me road before ah lick yuh dong yes.
By the time those whose beds of nails we ve been
making when we re not plugging them into the
same technology we distract ourselves with (from
ourselves and them) began singing the national
anthem, I wasn t sure whether to grit my teeth, or
grimace. Only a fool can retain a "boundless faith
in our destiny" which has systematically been tram-
pled by the greedy, powerful and supremely ignorant.
Failed Federation, globalisation and petty nationalism
have made a mockery of the notion that the islands
of the Caribbean stand side by side. It took an
earthquake for the region to awake to the misery
of Haiti, our first truly independent nation. Maybe
instead of standing side by side we need to change
to sing: lie down in the common poverty of vision
and the embrace of mediocrity.
There may well be a case for reparations, the
legacy of slavery greets us every dawn, but money
or infrastructural, educational or wider develop-
mental initiatives don t change the bankruptcy of
vision not even in blessed, floating on energy dollars,
Trinidad. Maybe our national motto should be
revised to more accurately reflect our post-inde-
pendence mode: "Together we conspire, together
We re independent, but horrendously dependent;
we may be postcolonial but we haven t yet begun
to de-colonise and apparently we like it so, because
the worst continues at a furious pace.
While Caribbean dysfunction can be historically
analysed in terms of European exploitation, many
of our current wounds are self-inflicted and the
barbarity, which CLR James predicted would descend
on the region unless it emancipated itself from the
plantation model, has arrived with a bang, leaving
many whimpering. Far from making a break from
the legacy of Chris Cum buss us, we resolutely con-
tinue in his footsteps.
The Cuban novelist Alejo Carpentier besides
championing our "real maravilloso" (magical reality)
gave us an imaginative insight into the "Discoverer s"
motivation in his 1979 novella El Arpa y la Sombra.
The sacred mission of Christo-phoros---the trans-
porter of Christ, is debunked in his deathbed con-
fession: "...there is an autumnal light that tears me
away from the resplendent islands where---perhaps
because I had not taken a chaplain aboard the ships,
perhaps because I had never thought of converting
or indoctrinating anyone---the devil waited to catch
me in his traps. And the evidence of those traps is
here, in the draft of my account of my voyages ...
that I pull out now with trembling... to reread
what...seems an entire repertoire of illusions...that
began on October 13th with the word GOLD...when
I saw with a thrill of surprise that some of the
Indians wore small bits of gold in their noses...
Seeing this marvel, I felt a sort of internal shock.
A lust the likes of which I had never known rumbled
in my guts...And from that day on, GOLD was the
word most often repeated in my diaries, reports
The dystopia of our paradise isles was inscribed
in the greed and violence shipped here in the caravels.
We can never be free of it by singing or mouthing
hollow words or wearing the colonists khaki pants.
A dry red
Kids at play on the paddleboats in the salt water pond at the Chaguaramas Broadwalk on Sunday. PHOTO: JEFF MAYERS
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